Chapter 2.
Mutilous Crumplethrip

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          Two days later, Lord Wrinklebottom was again enjoying a breakfast of Upper Patagonian Flightless Duck eggs on the terrace of Wrinklebottom Hall.

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          “Your fresh tea, m’lord.” Balderthump laid the silver tray of tea things on the table and poured a fresh cup of delicately flavoured Xu-Win Xiao Pekinese White tea. “This morning’s mail and your paper.” He lay the day’s freshly ironed copy of the West-Country Times beside the tea things and placed a single, elegant looking envelope on a silver tray beside the paper.

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           “Thank you, Balderthump. I find the Xu-Win Xiao Pekinese White tea grows on me.”

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          “Most pleasing, m’lord. I shall convey your approval to Sir Geoffrey Blinkenhoe.” Balderthump retired a polite distance, and stood tall and straight, waiting for further instructions.

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          Lord Wrinklebottom picked up the paper and began to read. “I see that scoundrel Crumplethrip is up to something,” he growled, vigorously tapping his finger on a short article in the newspaper.

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          Balderthump drew closer and leaning over Lord Wrinklebottom’s shoulder began to read.

 

Mystery of Giant Moa to be Solved 

 

London, Friday.

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There has been an interesting development in the ongoing public dispute between Sir Melkil Blagenthorpe and certain learned members of the Royal Society regarding Sir Melkil’s claim to have observed a living giant moa on his recent exploratory expedition to the South Island of New Zealand.

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A wealthy leather trader from Bristol, one Mutilous Crumplethrip, has stepped forward offering to resolve the dispute by launching an independent expedition to verify or refute Sir Melkil’s claim.

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The offer has been accepted by both Sir Melkil and the Royal Society. Crumplethrip has confirmed his intention to raise an expedition and depart as soon as practically possible and no later than a week on Monday.

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Updates from the expedition will be carried exclusively in the West-Country Times.

 

          “Indeed, m’lord, it would appear Mr Crumplethrip is eager to use his fortune to advance the cause of scientific enquiry.”

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          “Fiddlesticks, Balderthump! You know as well as I do that Crumplethrip is nothing more than a scheming Bristolian bootmaker, looking to turn any opportunity to his own advantage!”

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          “It is true Mr Crumplethrip does have some history of dubious endeavours” agreed Balderthump.

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          “Some history?! He has nothing but dubious endeavours in his past. And we should know, having experienced some of those first hand.”

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          “Indeed, m’lord.”

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          “How do you think he will try to verify or refute Sir Melkil’s claim?”

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          “One would hope he will take independent observers with him to prove the veracity or otherwise of Sir Melkil’s claim, m’lord.”

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          “Hmmph! He’ll do no such thing!” Balderthump topped up Lord Wrinklebottom’s tea cup and began to clear away the remains of breakfast. “We must be under no illusion Balderthump. The only motivations for Crumplethrip are money and fame. His plan will be to bring back that bird, if it exists, dead or alive, to be sold to a zoo or museum, or worse, paraded around the country as some sort of freak show exhibit. It shouldn’t be allowed to happen!”

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          “No, m’lord.”

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          “But sadly, as we well know Balderthump, there is no means of stopping him, so we shall simply have to let him go on his merry way and hope fate deals him a deserving hand.”

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          “Indeed, m’lord.”

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          Lord Wrinklebottom read for a little longer, then put the paper down and picked up the envelope from the silver tray. He withdrew a single sheet of fine white, perfumed paper and began to read. As he read, the colour drained from his face.

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          “I say, Balderthump! I say! Outrageous! I’ll have none of it! It cannot be allowed to happen!”

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          “Begging m’lord’s pardon, but what exactly cannot be allowed to happen?” enquired Balderthump politely.

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          “This!” exclaimed Lord Wrinklebottom waving the sheet of fine notepaper. “Aunt Mabel has indicated her desire to visit for a month over the summer! Balderthump, I doubt we could survive!”

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          “A most serious situation indeed, m’lord,” agreed Balderthump. “Perhaps m’lord could find himself to be otherwise engaged?”

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          “Indeed. After some thoughtful and deep consideration, Balderthump, I have determined the need to provide support to Sir Melkil in his time of need is more pressing than I had first understood.”

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          “A most compassionate view, m’lord. I shall make arrangements for an extended visit to Sir Melkil’s Northamptonshire estate?”

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          “His estate? Good Lord, no! That is far too accessible for Aunt Mabel. You will make arrangements for an expedition to the South Island of New Zealand ‘tout de suite’! We shall go out there and find out for ourselves whether such a thing as a giant moa still exists!

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          “Very good, m’lord.”

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          “And with some good fortune we may do so before that toadish Crumplethrip can, and perhaps play a role in the hand fate deals him!”

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          “Most worthy objectives, m’lord. Shall I cancel the meeting of the Wrinkle Bottom Butterly Preservation League?”

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          “Oh, er, the Butterfly League? Mmmm. A pity really. I am rather partial to the League’s annual dinner, but no! There are more important things at stake now! Pack our bags. Cancel the Butterfly Preservation League dinner and prepare for an expedition!”

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